Recognition Sickness (Windwalker Chronicles 4)
by LemurKat
Summary: The willfull daughter of a Chief recognises the one Elf she least desires to, as does he...


_I don't really like this one, but I'll let you be the judge. This happens in Starlight's Holt, just to confuse you even more! ElfQuest belongs to Wendy and Richard Pini, but the Windwalkers belong to me. For more information on the Windwalkers, visit my homepage (one of many) - [http://members.nbci.com/Sharna"][1]._

## Recognition Sickness

Kestrel flapped through the trees, enjoying the slight breeze that tugged through her feathers and ruffled her red-brown hair. Beside her drifted the silent shape of Keesha, her namesake, a bright-eyed kestrel. Keesha would cease her hovering to pounce on insects and small animals, crunching them down with relish. The young windwalker enjoyed being alone - with only the trees, wind and kestrel for companionship. The rainforest was hardly a typical habitat for the little raptor, but when the fledgling had been blown into the forest, the bird-speaker had taken it under her wing.

Suddenly Kestrel noticed something large moving beneath her - prey or hunter? She hovered herself, copying the kestrel's move. It had taken years of practice to acquire that skill. The sharp odour of predator assaulted her nostrils. Her sharp eyes scanned the ground, finding clearly what she sought - the sight of an elf. She flapped nervously in shock - for not only was this elf lacking wings, but he was also perched astride a mighty black canine. Her ancestral memory named it as a "wolf". What was the wingless one doing in her forest? It had been many years since such had visited her flock's grounds. The wolf-rider passed beneath her with no sign of recognition by elf or beast. Obviously the air circulated upwards, away from the two. Curious, and mildly concerned, Kestrel flapped slowly after them. Keesha glided unconcernedly on the currents of the wind, sharp eyes scanning the ground and tree branches for food. A small lizard marched across a nearby branch, completely ignorant of its encroaching demise. Keesha hovered for but a second, then dove on the small reptile, powerful talons prepared to deal the final strike. Too late, the lizard noticed her shadow and made a desperate rush for safety. CRASH, one talon impaled the small creature whilst the other sent a spray of wood chips into the air. Keesha flapped to a neighbouring perch, swallowing the lizard in a few quick gulps. She then launched herself into the air to find her elf-friend.

The elf and his wolf had stopped by the banks of the river. He had flung aside his rucksack, bow and quiver and was removing his travel stained clothing. The black wolf had already given in to temptation and plunged into the water, its thick black fur becoming plastered to its muscular body. The elf too was muscular, not only in the arms and chest as the aerial windwalkers, but also in the legs. Kestrel perched on a sturdy branch, and watched voyeuristically as the now unclad elf entered the water. She wondered briefly if he knew about the snapjaws that lurked beneath the water, always waiting for the sweet taste of elf flesh. Keesha swooped in to perch beside her, the kestrel's colourful sending indicating that once again the little glutton had eaten well. Kestrel patted her gently on the head with one finger, before turning her attention back to the scene below. In the water, wolf and elf were playing, wrestling with each other and splashing water about noisily. Noticing that a narrow band of small shrubs divided the resting place from the river, Kestrel dropped silently down from the tree to investigate. The soft, mossy ground felt good beneath her bare feet. She glanced over the bow, quiver and arrows, admiring the handiwork. Obviously made by someone with skill. The clothing was different too - Kestrel was used to wrap-around tunics, because with winged arms it was hard to wear anything else, unless they had large arm openings. This tunic had long pieces of cloth that would stretch to about her elbows. She wondered briefly what they were for and then concluded that they must be to keep their arms warm, for he lacked the warm feathers of her kind. She was considering whether or not it was right for her to search the rucksack, invasion of someone else's property was considered impolite. Before she had the chance to delve into deep moralistic thought, she was rudely interrupted by something very large leaping her from behind and pinning her to the ground.

"Caught you," the language was foreign to her, but felt familiar somehow, in some ancestral sense. She did not understand its meaning, her people had not talked for many generations.

Kestrel sent a black-coloured sending at Keesha, why had the bird not warned her? Keesha's return send was coloured reddish and showed satisfaction - the danged bird had been distracted by food. It was obvious to Kestrel what had happened, seeing her snooping, the wolf had pinned her. The elf stood before her, his lank blond hair shining in the sunlight. He smiled slyly, it was not pretty.

"So I've caught the little spying bird," he quipped, and although Kestrel could not understand his words, she understood the bitter humour.

**What do you want of me?** She sent, in a desperate hope that because he was an elf, he would understand her.

**The little bird CAN talk.** Was his reply-send, tinged with sarcasm.

**Why do you not just leave me alone, Tal,** she snapped at him, not knowing why she suddenly felt inspired to say that name - not understanding the strange adrenaline rush she felt.

He recoiled as it struck by a hot stick. "Come Vagrant," he called, and leaping on the back of the wolf, rode swiftly away, leaving all his belongings behind.

Deeply puzzled, and very confused by the strange potpourri of emotions she was experiencing, Kestrel shook her head in a daze, and clambered to her feet. The wolf and his rider were gone.

*

**She grows sicker everyday Sunflower,** a concerned Daystar sent to the healer. All Sunflower could do was shake her head.

**There is naught physically wrong with her,** the elderly windwalker sent. She was very worried, her sendings were fill of the emotion. Daystar felt little better himself, Kestrel was his lovemate and she seemed so frail. Ever since the day that wolf had jumped her and the elf named Tal had talked to her she had been ailing. At first Sunflower had worried the wolf may have given her the foaming sickness, but there was not a bite on her, and the wolf had been playing in the water - a definite indicator that the beast had not been rabid. **There is but one thing I can think that could have caused this.** She paused, glancing at Daystar. The copper-haired elf sat silently, watching her expectantly. **Recognition.**

**But Recognition is a myth!** Daystar leapt to his feet. **None of our flock have ever recognized. It is merely something we lost when we gained our wings.**

**I wonder,** the healer replied. **What do you know of Recognition?**

Daystar shrugged his broad shoulders. **Not a lot, merely that it is a mechanism guaranteed to produce a child.**

The healer's golden eyes gazed into his orange ones - **And what has happened to our fledglings, born out of Recognition?**

**Fledglings have been born,** he replied.

**And many have died.**

He paused, **so Recognition must be to make a healthy fledgling?**

**Perhaps, or it may have something to do with choosing two elves that will make a healthy flegling.**

**And if she were to,** he paused **engage in acts with that elf, and bear him a fledgling, all would be well?**

Sunflower shrugged. **It does not appear as if he realized that, running like a frightened ravvit.**

**We shall find him,** Daystar replied, setting his chin firm, **he can run, but he cannot hurt my Kestrel like that!**

Sunflower nodded, her greying braids waving. She was but 3 millennium old, but the strain of healing had taken its toll on her already delicate body.

*

Vagrant whimpered, nudging her elf-friend with her cold nose. Gypsy shuddered, as if in fever, and wrapped his arms around the black wolf.

"Tis all right Vagrant," he whispered. "I will not let that bird-elf take me from you. I shall stay still for noone."

Vagrant whimpered again, not understanding a word bar her name. She wagged her tail hopefully, then licked the elf again. She was clearly trying to persuade him to get up, to move. Dejectedly she nudged the somewhat aging ringtail corpse she had brought the wolf-rider the day before. He had not eaten it, not even looked at it. For nearly ten days he had been refusing food and water. His naked body and weakened immune system had led to him catching a cough, and the spasms that racked his dehydrated body were terrible. Vagrant had carried water to him, even spilling it on his face, but he had not taken it willingly. It was only the dedicated care of his lupine companion that had kept him alive. Although not typical wolf behaviour, Vagrant could not smell sickness on him - aside from the cough, only something else. Something strange. If he had been sick, and dying, she would have killed him, but he was not sick although he seemed to want death.

Gypsy however was more angry with himself then suicidal. He had just been so shocked - to Recognize that strange looking elf girl! He had panicked. Perhaps if he'd paid more heed to her confusion then, he might have realized how puzzled she, herself, had been by the experience. And perhaps they could have got the necessary over and done with, and he and Vagrant could have been of again on their nomadic ways. But what if she had wanted him to stay? He would become a sire for goodness sake. He would have a child. The thought terrified him. Gypsy was a wanderer, a lonewolf, someone who belonged nowhere yet everywhere. The idea of ever being confined, trapped!, in any sort of relationship scared him almost to death. The elf had been a spy, and a thief, she had surely taken all his possessions, that he had lost in his near panic. Oh, why could he not be more grown up? Maybe she had a mate, maybe she feared confinement as much as he did. He shivered in a fever, and his body was racked once more with coughs. He wondered if she felt like this. It was a well known fact that resisting Recognition was bad for the health, but the vagabond had never tied himself to his pack, never really belonged, had left with Vagrant, his best friend in the world, as soon as he was old enough to hunt. He had never seen the pain caused when one resisted it. Had thought he was above that happening. After all, was he not different from other wolf-riders? Was he not The Wanderer? Nomad of the World of Two Moons? How wrong he had been.

*

The bird elf flitted amongst the trees like a golden-red shadow. A ringtail, peacefully resting, leapt away in fear, narrowly evading the talons of Crest, Daystar's harpy eagle. The huge bird shook its head in disappointment, sending the long brown feathers adorning its head into a circular spin. Its golden eyes searched the trees for movement. Daystar called to it reassuringly. Although he could not communicate with his animal friend as easily as Kestrel could talk to all the flock's companions, he knew Crest. She was not happy. Whether it was because she sensed something was wrong with her friend, or whether she was just annoyed at missing the third prey in a row, he could not tell. It had not taken him long to find the clearing where the wingless one had shed his clothing and belongings - Crest glided down and began poking her huge beak through them as soon as they alighted near the river. Kestrel had described the area well. Sending a short message to Kestrel's father, the flock leader, Starlight, informing him of his efforts, the young elf searched the area for clues as to where the two had gone. It was not hard, the huge canine footprints, the size of his palm, gave it away. The creature was BIG. He glanced at Crest. Hopefully fighting the wolf would not be necessary, although he had his spear, and of course his eagle-friend, he wondered if either offered appropriate protection from this creature that was a wolf. He had to do it for Kestrel though. Sighing, trying to hide his nervousness from the empathic harpy, he began tracking the wolf.

*

Starlight stood over his daughter's bedfurs. One pale hand rested on her brow, which was warm to the touch, too warm. He could sense no sickness in her, not of the normal kind anyway, but the light that surrounded her body was an unusual colour. As though she were sick with magic. He had not left her side for nine days. She was his only surviving child, and he loved her dearly. Infant death was all too common in the windwalkers, and he had almost lost count of the number of fledglings that had been born dead or dying. If what Sunflower had suggested was true, his daughter would bear a life child, a heir. She was destined for leadership of course, even though her solitary nature and curiousity would have to be subdued when she gained the featherband. She would, it was not as if she did not have several centuries to work on it. If she survived this. Starlight was starting to wonder if she would. He put his other arm around Sablerose, his lifemate and Kestrel's mother. The plant healer was choked with grief, as if considering her daughter already doomed. Surely Daystar would find the renegade wingless one - the youngster was solid, dependable and hopelessly infatuated with the chief's daughter. Besides, he and his daughter's lover had similar talents - that counted for a lot in Starlight's opinion. The young elf would succeed, he had to. It was the only hope they had. He just hoped the wingless one had not died. Nothing without wings could have the endurance of his beloved daughter.

*

Vagrant tensed, her fur rippling on end. She stirred from beside her ailing companion and scented the air. Stranger! All her senses screamed. A strange elf had come to find her friend. His scent told her he was frightened, determined, but she could not determine what he wanted with the elf beside her. She stood up, walking towards the encroaching elf. But his aroma came from above, disappearing as fleetingly as a shadow. As she scented the air, trying to pinpoint where he was, something large descended from above and landed across her back. It grabbed her ears, sending to her viguorously - **I do not want to hurt you, but I will if need be. I just have to help your master.** - Although the wolf could not understand the sending fully, despite the windwalker's skill at sending, he was not her friend, but she understood the basic meaning. She lowered her head submissively, but was prepared to attack if he so much as touched her elf-friend the wrong way.

Every nerve in Daystar's body screamed in fear. The wolf was so large, surely it could kill him in two bites if it chose. He hoped it understood, at least a little. When the wolf lowered its head, he dismounted it, realizing from its body-light that it was not intending to kill him. At least not yet. He approached its fallen master, whom he almost overlooked at first, the elf was curled up and very still, as naked as a newborn babe. A somewhat ill-smelling ringtail corpse was stretched out beside him. Daystar approached cautiously, watching the wolf closely. If it attacked him, Crest, waiting patiently in the treetops would attack it, but he did not want his harpy-friend to get hurt. Slowly, deliberately, he sent to the fallen elf - **I am a friend of Kestrel's, Tal, I have come to help her, and you it seems.** At the mention of "Tal" the ailing elf shuddered and the wolf snarled menacingly at him.

**You know my soulname - how?** For all its weakness, the elf called Tal managed a vicious send.

**Kestrel - the elf you met, told me.**

**Does she not know that is sacred?** The sending was bitter.

**No, it is?**

The elf shook again, in anger this time, Daystar suspected. **You are all stupid.**

**At least we did not run from Recognition,** Daystar snapped back. He was starting to lose control of the conversation, and the wolf's muscles were tensing. **Look,** he added, **you are obviously ill and my lovemate is dying - so come with me and all will be well.**

**Lovemate?** The elf queried, its magically-ill aura changing to a slightly brighter colour, as if he were hopeful all of a sudden.

**Yes, and I can put up with you, wingless one, mating with her, if only so she would be well.**

**You would not trap me with your pack?** The sick elf already sounded happier.

**Of course not, wingless one,** Daystar almost chuckled. **You would not fit in, you cannot fly. The fledgling will be mine.**

Slowly the elf dragged himself upright. **If you can get me to your bird-woman, I would be only to glad to do whatever is necessary to make me able to return to my wandering ways.**

**Perhaps we should bring her to you,** Daystar replied. **It might be a bit hard to get you to her roost.** He was feeling better already, the wolf had stopped growling and had relaxed. Maybe everything would be well.

*

Kestrel rolled away from the elf called Gypsy and threw her arms around her lovemate. The recovery had been amazingly quick - as soon as the two of them had met again, there had been more colour in both elves'cheeks. Daystar had not liked the idea of sharing his lovemate with an outsider, but it was not so bad. He would have a fledgling, whether he was the sire or not would not matter. Any infant was good, especially when their was chief's blood involved.

**I love you,** the bird-woman sent to him, and he squeezed her delightedly. 

Gypsy sat up, and grinned at them. "Quite a good woman you've got there," he said "I could manage that again." It was a good thing neither of them understood a word, and they were so wrapped up in each other that they paid him no heed anyway. He glanced at Vagrant, she was grinning at him. "Time to leave my girl," he said, "now, if only I had my belongings."

After a moment's thought, he sent it to Kestrel, the elf he knew as Reyna. She grinned up at him.

**My father has them,** she sent, motioning, **he likes your clothing, better climb up and get them afore he cuts those arm things off them so he can wear them himself.** Daystar's chuckle proved that the wolf-rider had not been the sole recipient of that message.

Muttering about elves that were too smart for their own tongues, he mounted his wolf and rode in the direction Reyna had motioned. 

Grinning, Kestrel turned back to her own lover, the one she wanted to spend her life with. The one who would father her child no matter who its sire might be. She did not notice as Daystar made a cautious sending to Gypsy.

**Please tell me her soulname.** He asked. After a momentous pause, Gypsy did.

*

The newborn girl-child was held before the flock. There had not been a birth for many years and this was an occasion worthy of celebration. The fledgling's aura was vibrant, golden, healthy and strong. Both grandfather and father smiled at each other as they both observed her light-force.

**Her name shall be Skybird,** Starlight, holding the child aloft, sent to all his followers. Despite her young age, the child with the clear blue eyes and golden hair did not cry. It was almost as though a part of her knew what she was. She chose instead to flap her immature, sungold wings. 

   [1]: http://members.nbci.com/Sharna



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